Watch the Ball Drop
by Shojobaby
Summary: Nancy, Frank, and Joe have been asked to attend a very posh New Year's Eve party to keep watch for a jewel thief that is suspected to show up. A kidnapping leads them to Times Square, where they must race against time to stop the thief before he escapes.
1. Chapter 1

**Alright everybody, this is a new story of mine. Thank-you for clicking on it. Enjoy it and please tell me what you think.**

Watch the Ball Drop

" Hey," Nancy said as she and her companion neared the twelve-story-tall building in front of them, " what happened to Frank?"

One of her escorts, Joe Hardy by name, looked down at her from his six-foot-three height with an impish grin. " And here I thought I was sufficient. One Hardy as a date just doesn't cut it, huh Nance?"

Nancy laughingly socked Joe on the arm. Frank and Joe had been her best guy friends ever since college. They had even opened a detective agency with her. Joe loved to tease her and Frank because they had a thing for each other, but they refused to admit it.

Rolling his eyes, Joe nodded toward the rear of the building. " Brother dearest is back there. Watching the comings and goings of anyone who uses the back entrance. Just a precaution."

Typical Frank, cover all the bases. " He can't just stay back there, Joe. He'll freeze!" She snugged her chin into her scarf for emphasis.

" Hey, I know. I told him to walk in with you- get some quality time- but no. He-"

" Shhh!" Nancy hissed. She and Joe were approaching the doorman, who took in their formal clothes with a pompous sniff.

Joe plastered on a smile. " Must suck to be out on a night like this. Do you go on break soon?"

" Not soon enough for my taste," the stuffy man said. He held the door wide open, as if wanting the two sleuths to leave him alone. " Enjoy your evening."

In just as much of a hurry to escape the doorman's critical gaze, Nancy and Joe scurried into the lobby of the luxurious Uptown House. The Uptown House was a live-in hotel, in which the rich and beautiful flaunted themselves and their money.

Joe checked his watch and pressed a minuscule button on the side. Then, as he gently steered Nancy to a wall, completely filled with a floor-to-ceiling portrait of the hotel's owner: Horas Peret, he whispered, " I just buzzed Frank. He should be walking through the door in a second; then we can all head upstairs. Mr. Peret is expecting all three of us to show up."

Nancy nodded. " This is gonna be a real sophisticated affair. I hope I don't goof."

" You, goof? Not possible!" Frank's voice said from behind.

Nancy and Joe made an about face. " Brother dearest!" Joe exclaimed. " Glad you made it. I was afraid that I would have to get Nan to the party all by my-oof!"

Nancy removed her elbow from Joe's gut; smiling at Frank before she did so. " Are my escorts ready to do some sleuthing?"

" You know it." Frank took Nancy's arm and walked with her to the elevator, with Joe straggling behind, trying to catch his breath.

In the elevator, each of the young detectives silently reflected on their job for the evening. They were to act as happy, young party goers, at the same time keeping watch for a nefarious jewel thief that was suspected to show up at the party that evening. The trio had been asked by the hosts, Mr. and Mrs. Peret, to attend. As their cover, the sleuths were pretending to be visiting business associates of the Perets.

The elevator came to a halt at the top floor. Its door opened onto a small anteroom, in which a uniformed butler stood waiting to greet the guests.

" You are here for the party, I presume?"

" You presume correctly." Joe answered chipperly.

The butler's expression remained apathetic. " Names please?"

" Harrow and Dillan." Frank replied.

Bobbing his head, the butler gestured for them to enter the larger room; where sharply dressed men and elegantly gowned women were mingling.

Entrusting their coats to the less-than-affable butler, the group sauntered in among the other guests. A few heads turned as the detectives made their way over to the Perets, who were laughing and chatting with an older man and a young lady.

" Ah! Nancy, Frank, and Joe. Welcome to my humble- ah - abode." Mr. Peret exclaimed as he glanced their way. Turning to his companions, the jovial-faced man made the introductions.

" Mr. Milweed and Joanna, meet my business -really, you could say _proteges_- Miss Nancy Dillan, Mr. Frank Harrow, and Mr. Joe Harrow."

" How do you do?" Mr. Milweed murmured without warmth.

" Charmed." Joanna drawled in an uninterested tone.

The sleuths were a bit miffed at the Milweed's attitudes. Mrs. Peret sensed the tension, so she said, " My, my, Nancy! I adore that dress!" Don't you think it's lovely Joanna?"

Joanna sniffed as she caste on swift, sweeping glance over Nancy's dark burgundy evening dress. " It's a bit plain, don't you think? Although the color is very nice." She gave the dress a second appraisal. " And it appears to be very sturdily made. An early Dior?"

_More like a recent Hannah Gruen,_ Nancy thought. " Thank-you. And no, it's not Dior; it happens to be specially made." She smiled.

Joanna sniffed and turned back to her father. Small talk continued for a few moments, then the adults moved off toward the refreshment table.

The three detectives and Joanna wound their way through the crowd toward a large, covered glass case that stood on a dais against the wall.

"So, Joanna, " Joe began, " do you hang around parties like this often?"

" Well, duh!" Joanna flicked her raven hair over a spray-tanned shoulder and shrugged. "Where else would I be?"

Joe shrugged also. "Oh, I don't know. Times Square, maybe. Tonight _is_ New Year's Eve, you know."

" Yeah, I know." Joanna breathed, staring into the middle distance. She did not speak for a moment.

Frank cleared his throat. " What business is your father in; if you don't mind my asking?"

That snapped the girl out her reverie. "Hmm? Oh! He's a dealer."

" Really? What of?"

" Art, rare books, historic stuff, ... and jewels. He's just sold off an emerald from Colombia. Big money for that one."

the group was now only two feet away from the covered display case. Whirling, Joanna fired a question at Nancy. " Do you have any idea what's under that glass? I do."

Refusing to let the sudden inquiry ruffle her, Nancy replied with a tiny grin. " I can guess. Jewels?"

" Yes." The dealer's daughter turned to gaze longingly at the case. " One of the most beautiful stones in the world is under there. Trapped under that glass!" Her eyes darted to Joe's face. " Don't you think that's horrible?"

Thinking that she was finally opening up, Joe agreed emphatically. " Listen, I can tell a few tales about being trapped; and let me tell you, it is _not_ fun."

Nodding excitedly, Joanna grasped Joe's arm and towed him away from Frank and Nancy. As she pulled him along, she started to jabber on about "the liberal needs of nature."

" I have a feeling that Joe's going to be occupied for a while." Frank chuckled. " How about we scope out the crowd a little."

" Good idea. Make sure to keep an eye out for any suspicious-looking socialites." Nancy giggled.

Nancy and Frank made their rounds, stopping to chat briefly with the guests and the staff. Once they had a feel for the room, Nancy remarked, " All the guests are pretty nice, but the staff is kinda... detached."

" Yeah, I've noticed." Frank swept a glance around the room. "Looks like Mr. Peret stepped out. When he gets back, I want to ask whether or not these people are his regular staff."

" Yeah. They could be from some hired-help agency. I can't see Mr. Peterson using the hotel staff; that would take away from his paying guests."

A body bumped into Nancy from behind.

" Oh, sorry. I didn't look where I was- hello." The person who had bumped into the sleuth was a young man, probably in his early twenties, with closely-cropped red hair, a sharp nose, and glasses just a little bit too large for his face. Pretty cute.

" That's alright." Nancy smiled. " I'm sure it was an accident."

" An accident. Yes. Or maybe even fate." the red-head replied. He grinned beguilingly. " I'm sure it was fate."

Unable to help herself, Nancy smiled back and introduced herself as Nancy Dillan.

" Charmed, very charmed. My name is Reed Smothers, of the South Hampton Smothers."

Frank stuck his hand out, effectively blocking Nancy's hand from reaching Reed's. " Hi. I'm Frank Harrow, of the Bayport Harrows. Nice to meet you."

Reed stared Frank's out-stretched hand for a full five seconds before shaking it. " Hmmm. Of course. Bayport? I've never heard of it."

" It's a quiet, coastal town. Very peaceful."

Nancy held back a snort. Bayport was anything _but_ peaceful for the Hardys.

Reed '_hmmed_' and turned back to Nancy. They chatted for a few moments, until the orchestra struck up chord. " Care to dance." Reed asked.

Shooting a glance at Frank, who looked away, Nancy nodded. She and Reed swang into the waltz, leaving a miffed Frank behind to sulk.

Joe and Joanna had also shared the dance, but Joanna begged off when the next one started.

" I think I could use a little punch; I'm parched."

" Alrighty. I'll be right back." Outside, Joe was grinning; but inside, he was mulling over the long -and mostly one-sided- conversation Joanna had had with him. She was a nice enough girl when she opened up, and she was very open on ' natural free reign.' Which was apparently her belief that all people, animals, and things were ' born' free; and that having these things do stuff they were not ' born' to do was wrong. Joe had never thought that burning firewood was taking the tree from its destiny, to look beautiful and give off oxygen. However, according to Joanna, unless the tree agreed, burning it for warmth was murder.

Joe had just reached the punchbowl when Frank and Nancy strode up. Frank was trying not to scowl at the red-head that was with them. Joe had to snicker.

" Hi group! How's-" Joe's greeting was cut short as the lights flickered, then went out completely. Someone began to hurry across the floor, probably to find the circuit breaker. Mr. Peret's voice rang out of the darkness, telling everyone to remain calm.

Then, a split-second before the lights came back on, a far-off-sounding shriek rent the air!

" What was that?" a lady wondered, her eyes shifting nervously.

Frank, Nancy, and Joe were also scanning the room to see if anything was out of place. Nancy observed that the glass case seemed undisturbed; although the guests all looked extremely ruffled.

Two sharp gasps of surprise caught the girl sleuth's attention. Joe and Reed were staring across the room at an empty chair.

" She- she's-" Reed stammered.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Joe blurted out " Joanna! She's gone!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two. Enjoy! **

**Watch the Ball Drop**

" Gone!" someone cried. " Who's gone?"

The guests all glanced about, trying to see who was missing. Mr. Milweed's voice rose above the din. He was stomping toward Joe and shouting. " Where's my daughter?"

Joe threw his hands up in a placating gesture. Then, pointing to Joanna's vacated chair, he explained, " She was sitting right there, sir. I don't know-"

" You were the last person seen with her!"

Keeping a tight reign on his temper, Joe explained himself to the irate man. " I only left to get her some punch, sir. The lights went out; and when they came back on, Joanna was gone!"

Frank stepped in. " We'll help search for Joanna, sir."

Mr. Milweed was a tower of rage and worry. He was about to release an angry retort on the young sleuths when Mr. Peterson came hobbling up, looking frazzled. Frank noticed that the host's suit seemed rumpled. " Is there a problem, Mr. Harrow?" the older man asked.

" Joanna is missing!" Reed cried in dismay before Frank could answer.

Mr. Peterson decided to mount a search party. The three detectives immediately volunteered to help. Reed also offered to look.

" We do not need_ your _help, Mr. Smothers." Mr. Milweed shot the young man a scathing look.

The detectives filed away the obvious hostility between the young man and Joanna's father for future reference. Nancy and Joe moved off to hunt for clues; while Frank stayed behind to fish for answers from Mr. Peterson.

" Sir, are the servers here tonight your regular staff?"

Fiddling with his tie, the host replied, " Oh mercy, no! I wouldn't take the hotel staff away from the guests, especially not on New Year's Eve. The servers here are all temporaries from an agency; Rudson, the butler, is the only normal staff in my home."

Nodding, Frank fired off another question. " If you don't mind my asking, why did you leave the room just a few minutes before the lights went out?"

The older male got testy. " Surely you don't suspect me, young man. I stepped out to speak to Rudson; he's managing our extra staff for the night. I wanted to check with him about how everything is going." He raised his brows. " Any more questions?"

Frank knew when to retreat. " Not now, sir." Mr. Peterson walked away, his cane tapping harshly.

A full fifteen minutes had passed before Nancy signaled for the brothers to join her by a shadowy doorway.

" I've found some footprints in here. I think that they're from a pair of heels." Nancy took a pocket flashlight from her purse and led the way down the dusty corridor. She explained that the prints at the beginning of the shadowy hall were smudged, as if the person who had made them had been dragging his feet.

" Okay, here." Nancy pointed the light downward; then she frowned. " These other prints weren't here before!"

Crouching, Joe examined the prints. " You were right about heels, Nance. The others look like men's dress shoes."

" Joanna's feet looked about my size..." Nancy made her own footprint next to the unknown set of heel prints and noted the length. " That's about right."

" Let's split up." Frank suggested. " Nancy and I can take the corridor and follow these prints. Joe, you go back and look for any more clues. Ask people if they saw or heard anything suspicious before the lights went out, okay?"

Joe quirked a brow. " How come you two get paired off?"

Nancy and Frank regarded the younger Hardy in silence until he went back up the corridor.

Keeping the light low to the floor to pick up the prints, the two friends followed the trail to its end, a door marked _EXIT_. A pair of men's dress shoes were lying in a jumble by the door.

" Check this out." Frank said. He held the left shoe bottom-up. Something had been written on it. Although one of the words was smudged, the detective was able to read: _Property of (smudge) Carassa._

Nancy read the incomplete message over Frank's shoulder. " It looks like Carassa took the back exit." Suddenly, Nancy let out a huge sneeze. She rested her hand on the door to steady herself, and she nearly toppled over when it swung open. " Guess the lock didn't catch." she mumbled.

" Nancy, look!" Frank pointed his light to the snowy ground. " More prints!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Been so long! Wow.**

**Watch the Ball Drop**

Time was everything in a missing persons case. Time had started ticking as soon as they'd found Joanna's trail.

Joe had an idea. Around him, confused babble continued to rise in pitch, indicating that no one knew what was going on. While Joanna surely had not disappeared by herself, finding anybody who knew something, and getting that person to talk, would take much too long.

With a mental clock ticking away in his head, Joe marched into the foyer, fully prepared to break cover to get Rudson to cooperate with his plan. He found the uppity butler surrounded by a knot of agitated servers, trying to calm their nerves.

"Pass the word," Rudson commanded, "service for the evening will continue. Start circulating with fresh hors d'oeuvres. If anyone asks, assure them that the situation is well in hand." As the servers murmured among themselves, Rudson raised his hands for attention. "Above all, remain calm. There will be a bonus in store for you all, _if_ you see the night through. Dismissed."

Spurred by the mention of a bonus, the servers straightened their shoulders, neutralized their expressions, and slipped among the guests. Joe approached Rudson, brows upraised. "Good motivation, Rudson. Really got them going."

The butler nodded once, formal and stiff. "Mr. Peterson's evening must proceed as planned, sir."

"Does Mr. Peterson know that you offered the servers a New Year's bonus?"

Rudson's already cool demeanor became downright icy. "The evening must proceed, sir. Mr. Peterson has given me carte blanche with tonight's staff. May I be of assistance to you, sir?"

Interesting. Very interesting. "Ah, yes. I need access to the coat closet."

Although the butler never even flickered an eyelash, Joe could have sworn eagerness flared in the man's eyes. "You wish to leave, sir?"

Joe ran his tongue over his teeth. How to word this? "If what I find in the closet tells me where to go, then yes, I'll be leaving."

"Sir?"

"Miss Millweed is missing, but you knew that. I want to take a look at her coat to see if anything about it can tell us where she went."

"Sir?" Rudson, so unflappable, seemed to be floundering at this strange request. Such a thing was unprecedented in his career!

Joe inched closer to the man, angling to the right, toward the closet door. "I doubt Joanna's kidnapper took the time to grab her coat before the lights went out, and after the lights went out, there would have been no time. He would have had to get out before you switched the lights back on."

"I, sir?" Rudson looked absolutely scandalized. "I did not leave my post, sir."

"So you didn't... Then who switched the lights back on?"

"I am sure I do not know, sir. One of my duties is to stay near the coats, to ensure no valuables are stolen. This being the case, I am afraid I cannot permit-"

Dredging up his most convincing, authoritative tone, Joe demanded, "Five minutes in the coat closet, Rudson. That's all I need."

"On what authority, sir?"

Joe reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his identification, allowing Rudson to take a good, long look. Staring the man down, Joe slid his ID back into his pocket. The gaping butler sidestepped to the left, clearing Joe's path to the door. As Joe disappeared into the mass of fabric and fur, he heard Rudson muttering, "Most unusual."

* * *

Ignoring the freezing temperature, Frank and Nancy followed the footprints into the alley that ran next to the hotel. There, the footprints were replaced by tire tracks.

"A getaway. This confirms it: this isn't a random kidnapping." Nancy observed.

Frank crouched to get a better look at the tracks. "I'd say we're looking for a relatively large vehicle. Something innocent looking enough for people not to question its presence." He pointed to a dark splotch in the snow between the front-tire tracks. "It was obviously here for a while."

"Delivery van."

"Yep. Would go unnoticed, since the party's catered. And I did see a van when I was back here earlier, just didn't think anything of it." Shoulders hunched against the cold, Frank and Nancy crunched through the snow, each hugging an opposite wall, sweeping their lights back and forth, searching for clues. None presented themselves. At the end of the alley, the tire tracks melded into the slush on the road. Cold and shivering, the detectives decided to head back inside.

"Not exactly dressed for the weather, are we?" Nancy whispered on the way up the passage.

"Not at all." Frank looked down at Nancy's peep-toe evening shoes. "Are you all right? No hypothermia setting in?"

"I'll be fine." They emerged into the ballroom, where the party was just starting to kick up again. "Thanks for asking, though."

"Ah!" Mrs. Peterson sashayed toward them, smiling at any guest whose eye she happened to meet. The charm vanished when she faced the detectives. "Anything?" she asked worriedly.

The pair gave their hostess a brief account of what they'd found. "Where's Mr. Peterson?" Frank added.

"In the study, with the police. There's an entrance off the foyer. Please," the woman's voice began to shake, "please go see what you can do."

Nancy and Frank promised to do their best. Mrs. Peterson composed herself and glided away among her guests.

The two detectives passed through the foyer, whispering about the case. They had come looking for a jewel thief. Now, they were staring at a missing persons case.

"Wait a minute, where's Joe?" Nancy asked as Frank knocked on the study door.

"Not sure," he replied. The door swung open, and the two detectives stepped through. The door clicked shut behind them.

If they had paused for one moment, they would have heard the third detective's exultant cry, only slightly muffled by the coats.


End file.
